


Open Circuits, Closed Circuits

by journeythroughtherain



Series: Bingo fills [7]
Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Angst and Feels, Canon Compliant, Father's Day, Gen, Harley Keener Needs a Hug, Post-Iron Man 3, but sweet too
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-15
Updated: 2020-10-15
Packaged: 2021-03-09 02:09:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 673
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27027103
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/journeythroughtherain/pseuds/journeythroughtherain
Summary: Some days of the year are harder than others, especially when it comes to family.
Relationships: Harley Keener & Tony Stark
Series: Bingo fills [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1337506
Comments: 2
Kudos: 37
Collections: Tony Stark Bingo Mark IV





	Open Circuits, Closed Circuits

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to Ru for looking this over and for helping me with the title!
> 
> This serves as a fill for my Tony Stark Bingo MKIV (Card 4095)  
> Title: Open Circuits, Closed Circuits  
> Square: A1 - Iron Dad  
> Relationship: Harley Keener & Tony Stark  
> Rating: Gen  
> Major Warnings: None  
> Word Count: 673

It's that time of year again. Harley can't help but clutch the strap of his backpack a little bit tighter as he enters the classroom, knowing what's on the schedule for today. He almost hopes something will happen, that the teacher is sick, that they won't follow the plan. But no. His teacher is still there, and on her desk is a big stack of cardstock, along with scissors and glue.

They're making Father's Day cards. Because Sunday is Father's day and fathers are to be celebrated and honored, even if they haven't been home to see their kids in years, apparently. He slumps down in his seat, refuses to look up as his teacher explains the task. It's the same as every year anyway. Make a card. Write a note. Decorate. Make it _personal_. 

He doesn't want to. And he doesn't know if he would be able to, even if he tried.

His teacher is handing out the cardstock to get them started, and when the sheet of paper lands on his desk, Harley thinks about doing what he did last year: just ignore it entirely until the class is over. 

He does, at first. Watches as the hands of the clock move, ticking the seconds and minutes away. Thinks of the gears turning, and then of the stopwatch he’d found in a box in the garage that he’d taken apart. He remembers all the tiny parts, the delicate little machinery, the spring and the screws. Then, putting it back together again, feeling proud that he managed it by himself. Remembers thinking that _he’d_ be proud.

He fishes around in his backpack for a pencil, then sits up again. Hesitates. 

Then he puts pencil to paper and begins drawing.

Before he knows it, class is over and he's looking down at a Father's Day card, decorated with a bunch of gears and tiny robots, and filled with the sketches of a new kind of projectile launcher he's been thinking about ever since he took apart the potato gun left for him in the garage– no, his _workshop_ now. 

The only thing it lacks is an addressee, and his own signature, but the teacher is telling them to pack up and get ready for their next class, so he carefully tucks the card away into a pocket in his backpack where it won't get crinkled.

Later that evening, when he's finished with all his homework and sitting at his workbench in his workshop, he pulls out the card again and stares at the empty spaces. Picks up a pen.

_**To** _

He pauses the pen, right above the blank space.

He can't write it. _To Dad_. Even if he thinks to himself it's kinda like a joke, since it's Father's Day and he only has one person to send it to anyway, which would make him Dad by default. It would be a funny joke too. But... He also _can't_ joke about it, because it would be just a little too sincere, and they... They don't _do_ sincere. 

_**To the Mechanic**_ he writes instead, and he thinks that it feels more right. He's the Mechanic. Harley is the Kid. 

That's what he should sign it as too, to complete the inside joke, to re-establish their _connection_. He pauses again, pen hovering. He puts it to the paper. Then changes his mind. Then puts it back. 

He places the pen on the desk, and walks away from it entirely, paces around the room for a minute. Finally he walks back and without further pause or room for any more second thoughts, he signs the damn card.

_**To the Mechanic** _

_**From your Kid** _

It's too sincere, and they don't _do_ sincere. But, he thinks, maybe they could. Just once in a while. 

Harley feels a little like he's reaching out a hand, and for some reason he feels certain that it will be met with a hand reaching back. There is no doubt in his mind about that. 

He smiles to himself. After all, they're _connected_.


End file.
